


tension

by atlas_oulast



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Canon Compliant, Car Sex, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Eye Sex, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied Sexual Content, It’s My Party I’ll Ship What I Want To, Making Out, Mutual Pining, No Smut, Rivalry, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Indulgent, Slow Burn, i fucking swear there’s no actual sex, no actual smexy content just the implication thereof, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_oulast/pseuds/atlas_oulast
Summary: Zoey held her gaze, keeping her eyes locked with Leif’s, unmoving, unquestioning.Leif didn’t falter, kept staring straight into her eyes... almost like he was staring into her soul.
Relationships: Zoey Clarke & Maggie Clarke, Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Leif Donnelly
Comments: 13
Kudos: 22





	1. a hot day & a late night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leon_kinda_sus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leon_kinda_sus/gifts).



> i love this shit so much?? the sexual tension between them is real and im gonna turn up the heat. literally this ship can be summarised in one word: **hot**. they’re literally like *tongues battling for dominance* but almost unironically. LISTEN... i have feelings about them

Zoey Clarke was frustrated.

She had just run literal miles in the hot middle of the goddamn summer sun from her parent’s house to her workplace at SPRQ Point, and now she was sweaty and gross and she had sweat stains under her arms on her nice knee length yellow sweater and her black button down underneath, and her shoulder length auburn hair was all sticky on her forehead. 

“Good afternoon,” Tobin greeted as Zoey rushed into the fourth floor from the elevator. He was dressed regally as usual, in an oversized blue and red sweatshirt and boy jeans.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, my mom was having an existential crisis and I had to help her,” Zoey explained quickly, rushing into the bullpen. “Alright, where are we at?”

She stood there, chest heaving, in her black leggings, black button down shirt, and her long yellow cardigan. It was a good thing she’d gone all black for appearing okay and less sweaty than she actually was, but not good for her own comfort, because black soaked up heat and she was hotter than the burning fiery pits of hell.

Everyone still stared at her.

“Look, when there’s a crisis at my mom’s house, I go assist. And then I ran back. Because I know this stuff needs to get done really soon... tell me what I need to do! I know I’m your leader but lead me today!” Zoey said quickly, all scrambled and flustered.

They continued to stare at her.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Zoey said, still just as breathless.

“Okay, well, we’re trying to finalise this section and stuff... do you wanna maybe pull up a chair and get coding?” Sam asked slowly.

“Sure! Yeah! Coding! Right on!” Zoey said, scrambling over to her desk. She leaned on it, trying to exert a cool and collected demeanour, crossing her legs as she leaned- and then nearly fell flat on her face. She recovered her balance and gave the staring men some well-placed finger guns.

Too bad that finger guns are never well-placed. 

“Okay, sooo... when do you plan on working?” Leif asked, casually strolling from his standing desk over to Zoey’s, his lanky body swaggering over to her before he really mentally got over there. It was mesmerising... too bad Zoey kinda hated him.

“Now! Seriously... am I not allowed to help my mother?”

“It’s different when you run out in the middle of a meeting that you organised, and then don’t come back or tell anyone what’s going on for four hours,” he said.

“Why don’t... why don’t _you_ go get to work. I’m doing my best here... okayyyy?” Zoey sat down with a _thump_. “I’m working on it!” The last bit of her statement went up, up, up in tone, to an almost hysterical level. 

Zoey was frustrated with everything. She was frustrated with how sad she was constantly, and how broken up her mom was, and how her brother and sister in law were busy with their new son, Zach, which was fine and all, except that it left her to take care of their mother, which was becoming more and more of an issue... like her mom interrupting her workday with a panicked text saying that she couldn’t find the old photo albums, and her and Zoey had to search for them for three hours and then look through them for an additional one hour.

So if Leif wanted to act all high and mighty and like she wasn’t working hard enough... she was going to give him a run for his money.

“Mind your own business, okay? I am _trying!_ My time spent here is none of your business. Screw off.”

This was not something Zoey would’ve said if she wasn’t so frustrated, pissed off, and if it wasn’t Leif.

Something in Leif just made her want to scream when he was a dick to her.

Even Tobin couldn’t get this kind of a rise out of her... and actually... she hadn’t been quite this completely done with Leif until recently. Maybe it was part of the grieving process over her fucking dead dad, and she was just taking out her anger on an easy target... which seemed to be Leif.

He was a whole foot taller than her, and so lanky and weird and yet really attractive. She wasn’t looking for anything right now (she’d decided to inform Max and Simon that there would be no romance; she was done with the love triangle and she just wanted them as friends) but it didn’t mean she couldn’t look at the menu.

Besides, Leif looked like the kind of guy who would fuck his dad’s Brazilian mail wife. Or the Brazilian mail order wife of one of his much more successful brothers. In fact, nobody ever proved that he didn’t. She’d put good money on the possibility that he had.

But right now, he wasn’t even being much of a dick, but Zoey had just exploded at him.

He looked... he had a really odd expression. But Zoey didn’t care to dissect it, much less deal with him any longer. Even if it made her feel like a bitch for blowing up at him.

“Please... just go do... work. Stop pestering me, I’m... on _trying_ ,” Zoey said quietly. 

Leif went back to his desk.

Zoey took an old, half empty water bottle off her desk and dabbed it almost daintily on her neck, face and wrists, trying to cool herself off. She took a couple deep breaths, and logged into her computer.

To her credit, she did do actual work. She took off her long, smothering yellow cardigan when she felt her sweat stains were slowly fading, and was careful not to lift her arms, lest she poison someone with her armpit stench. And then she actually got on the computer for real and got to work.

Mo had picked out the outfit for her, telling her that all black with a pop of colour suited her really well. The black leather pants were actually a gift from Mo, when he’d gotten ripped off and bought the complete wrong size on Ebay, thinking it was a completely different size. He’d kept them, and eventually bestowed them upon Zoey.

“Now, wear it on a hot day, with that really hot black button down and the cardigan and you’ll exert just... power and confidence. In fact, wear it without the cardigan and you might just get male attention. Or female. It’s an equal opportunity hot outfit.”

“How does wearing all black and multiple long sleeves on a hot day exert power?”

“Because you wear it like you’re not actually burning up under all of it, and looking like you’re too cool to be hot in all black is a power move. It’s big dick energy.”

“If you say so,” Zoey had sad slowly.

And even though she was most _definitely_ not exerting power and confidence right now, all flustered and sweaty and having just yelled at a coworker, it was appropriate. She felt like she was in mourning since her dad had died in April, and all black made her feel very appropriately sad, or exert that she was appropriately sad if nobody thought she was sad enough.

Not that she’d really mentioned that her dad had died. She’d taken a week off work, come back, and hadn’t said anything about her whereabouts. In her absence, Danny Michael Davis had gone on vacation and left Joan in charge, and a new 4th floor boss, Darryl, had been hired. He was nice enough, trusted Zoey to do her job, and told her he’d be decently lenient if she worked weird hours because of her very much deceased father. 

Who was now decaying in a box in the ground, very cold and alone, dressed up in a horrible suit he never would’ve worn if he had the choice.

And her mom had no idea what to do with herself, which wasn’t helping.

And it was becoming acutely aware to Zoey that she was now, except for an intern or two and one girl who worked in marketing on the complete other side of the floor, the only woman on the fourth floor. At least she’d had Joan before, and now she was alone with a bunch of macho man coders... and Leif.

But she did do actual work, caught up to where everyone else was and more, working a bit later than she needed to, even as people began to leave. Eventually, she and Leif were the only people left, a loud silence building up in the room. Zoey stifled a yawn, not even allowing that to derail the silence.

“Why are you still here?” Leif asked her, the silence too suffocating not to say something.

“To catch up,” Zoey said shortly.

“Right... want some coffee?” Leif looked at her... sympathetically? Hopefully he didn’t know about her dad... she preferred that nobody at work know, because then she’d have to deal with people being sympathetic, giving her food, and she had plenty of sympathy casseroles being funnelled to her by her overwhelmed mother.

“I’m sorry about earlier... my mom’s struggling, and I’m on the struggle bus with her.” 

“What’s up, then? Maybe I can help,” Leif said, taking off his yellow tinted reading glasses.

Zoey tilted her head slightly and looked at him. “Why do you want to know?”

“Obviously you’re stressed and overwhelmed... even if I’m still lowkey mad you got the promotion over me-“

“Come on, that was months ago now-“

“-I want to try and make you less overwhelmed. That also means I’ll get yelled at less. So.”

“You just don’t want my rage, huh?”

“Basically,” Leif said... even if he was acting like he was lying.

But why would he be lying about not wanting Zo-Rage exerted upon him with the raw burning fiery power of a thousand suns?

Why was he acting like he kinda _wanted_ her raw burning fiery thousand suns and all Zo-Rage?

“Coffee? I think I’ll do coffee. One cream and five sugars?”

“Jesus, are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Not at the moment,” Zoey joked darkly.

“Touchè.”

“At least I don’t take coffee black, like some people. I have a little bit of a soul.”

“Actually... I take my coffee with two cream, four sugar,” Leif said slowly, squirming slightly like he was embarrassed to admit that his coffee was similar to hers.

Zoey squinted at him. “Cool?” 

“Yeah. Okay. Coffee.”

Why was it suddenly super, super awkward between her and Leif?

He brought her coffee, and he really did put the appropriate amount of cream and sugar in it, and it was a little bit of liquid gold as she sipped it slowly. “Mmmm,” she breathed, swallowing a small, tentative sip, ignoring how intently Leif was staring at her from across the room. She probably looked weird, it was nothing personal.

“Thanks, Leif.”

“No problem. How much later do you think we’re gonna stay here?” He asked, suddenly locking eyes with her.

She felt really hot and really powerful, suddenly. Like she was harnessing those thousand suns now.

Zoey decided that that was really weird before it was too late and broke the gaze.

“I dunno... how fast can we finish this bit if we split it and guzzle coffee?”

Leif bit his lip demurely, and spoke slowly, after taking a slow, long sip of coffee... still looking at her the entire time. She became acutely aware of his body language... leaning a bit against his desk, his legs crossed, but stiffly, not at ease, as that position usually suggested. “An hour and a half? That gets us out at midnight.”

“Let’s make it an hour,” Zoey said. “You take the back end and I’ll take the front, we can meet in the middle.

Leif took another sip of coffee. “An hour it is!”

They coded for the next hour and twelve minutes silently, the only sound the occasional slurp of coffee and their fingers dancing across the keyboards. Zoey stole a glance at Leif, gaze focused completely on his computer screen, those yellow tinted glasses perched on his nose, legs crossed differently- more at ease, right foot tucked behind his left- as his long, bony fingers typed quickly, probably trying to beat her to the middle.

Zoey was reminded of when she took her first coding class, in middle school. Her dad had found out that the local library was having a coding class, and he signed her up before he even told her about it. Ten year old Zoey was thrilled, and excelled in the simple coding they had kids her age doing so much, that they moved her to the high school coding class. It wasn’t her first rodeo in classes with older kids, she’d skipped fourth grade. But in those library coding classes... she discovered a passion.

And now she was here, racing Leif Donnelly to code to the middle of this section.

They got there at almost the exact same time, Zoey taking a long sip of the little bit of coffee left in the bottom of her mug. “That’s done,” Zoey said quietly, leaning back in her chair.

“What now?” Leif asked, doing the same with his mug.

“Uhh... we go home?” Zoey asked slowly. “I’m tired and it’s midnight... we voluntarily stayed until midnight.”

Leif readjusted his position, leaning against his desk, facing her. Slightly stiffly, in a way. She wondered if he’d break out into song, and she could finally figure out what the fuck was going on with him.

But he didn’t. 

“Alright then, let’s close this place out!” Leif declared, snapping his laptop shut.

Zoey did the same, and put her tablet and computer into her bag, and stood up to leave.

“See you here tomorrow?” Leif asked, which was weird... because they worked together. 

Okay, yeah, she had left for four hours earlier today/yesterday to help her mom, but...

“You won’t see me here if you’re not here,” Zoey quipped, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Good point,” Leif said, picking up his bag and heading to the elevator with her, side by side.

Leif pushed the elevator button, and the elevator, otherwise not in use, opened up, and the two stepped in together. Leif pushed the button for the lobby.

They rode down in silence, Zoey wishing she had the answers to Leif’s odd behaviour in musical form, expecting every second that the next, he’d bust out into song, but he didn’t.

Most of the time, it was problems she hadn’t known about previously being revealed to her when someone opened her mouth and sung. Or it was a continuation of a problem Zoey had helped with, or something new, or sometimes just a window into one’s thoughts.

It was weird, for once, wanting the song (and it not being her dad), but no song being sung. For a moment, she wondered if her power was doing okay, but a bunch of random strangers on her way back to work from her mom’s house had just sung her Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds when she passed a club where they were _definitely_ smoking grass.

But since a song wasn’t breaking the silence, Zoey had to.

“I really am sorry... about earlier,” she said quietly.

“I already forgave you. And even though you clearly don’t want to tell me why you’re upset, my offer still stands. Whenever you wanna talk.. okay?”

“Thanks...” Zoey said, trailing off the end of her sentence. Leif? Offering her comfort? When he didn’t even know what happened?

Something was up. Something was most definitely up.

The elevator, however, was most definitely _down_ , as the doors opened to let them into the deserted, darkened lobby. The two walked out through the doors onto the chilly nighttime air, plenty of lights in the city lighting their way.

“See you tomorrow,” Zoey said, peeling off from him to head towards the BART station closer to where she lived, while Leif was going the opposite direction.

Leif stopped, and looked like he wanted to say something, even opening his mouth to say it, but then he closed his mouth.

“See you tomorrow,” he said finally, biting his lip slowly, standing straight and tall, towering above her, and yet looking like he wouldn’t mind getting down if she asked for it.

She had never really been the best at empathy and studying body language, speech patterns, stuff like that, before she’d gotten her power, but now, she’d learned that studying body language gave her some clues to how they were feeling that songs occasionally didn’t, or gave her hints as to when they would start busting out into song.

Leif had all the symptoms, and Doctor Zoey diagnosed him with Something Is Going On, He’ll Be Belting In A Minute. But it had been many minutes, and he hadn’t sung.

But about the him looking like he wouldn’t mind getting lower for her... she didn’t even really know how she knew that, why she felt that. But she did, he was doing it, and it was weirdly hot. She wasn’t getting food, but it didn’t hurt anyone to look at the menu... and this looked hot and ready.

Ew. What was she saying? This was Leif. He was a jackass and he hated her, they could leave it with that. There was no need to have much more of a relationship than that. He was thoroughly off Zoey’s menu, not even an option. She would not be having him today, even if he was low-key a tall glass of water.

She wasn’t thirsty.

Zoey nodded in acknowledgement to Leif, and turned around to walk towards the BART station... walking faster as she got further away. She just needed to put as much space between her and Leif as humanly possible. Maybe she could go on vacation to somewhere far far away where Leif didn’t look at her... like _that._

“What the _fuck_ was that?”


	2. another day, another run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey recieves an ultimatum from her new boss, more odd behaviour from Leif, and her mother’s erratic behaviour as a nice garnish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when will i put heartsongs in this? nobody knows! go with it!

Zoey found herself again running into work at stupid ‘o clock in the afternoon, after taking several hours off to help her mom, who’d collapsed into a puddle of tears over trying to box up her husband’s belongings. Appropriate enough, given that her husband was in a box himself, cold and rotting under six feet of dirt. Thank god she hadn’t had to box up him himself.

Zoey was cynical and angry and just generally pissed, and that wasn’t really her fault. The universe was forcing her to help people, meanwhile her dad got taken away from her. Sounded completely and totally fair. So excuse her for being angry. 

Especially when Darryl called her into his office ( _Joan’s_ office, really) and just stood there, arms crossed, looking thoroughly pissed. So that was helping Zoey’s levels of pissed tremendously on it’s own.

“Look, my mom’s really struggling right now, I need to help her. My brother has a newborn and I’m pretty much the only one who semi understands how she’s feeling right now. I’ll work late... I’ll work late any day when I have to leave in the middle of the day to help her,” Zoey explained, before he could even say anything.

“Working late doesn’t help the problem... you run out and you leave and your team has no guidance for those four hours. Nobody needs guidance and instruction at midnight, but they need it from ten to two. I’m more than willing to demote you, or fire you, if this persists,” he said slowly.

“You told me you’d be lenient,” Zoey said, equally slowly, an awkward/utterly furious laugh at the end of her sentence. “Because, I dunno if you’ve noticed, but, uh, my _dad_ just died.” The second part was choked, both with emotion because she had to say the word ‘dad’ (like some sort of gay boy in a straight girl’s fanfiction, she couldn’t even say this one stupid word,) and also because she was rightfully furious.

She couldn’t control when her mom was crying and Zoey needed to help. Was the only one who could help.

“I understand you’re going through a lot, but you can comfort your mother before or after the workday starts, or during your lunch hour if you’re in and out in enough time. Otherwise, during your workday, I need you here, or working from home if you need to, but delegating and directing from there.”

“I can’t control when she’s upset! The love of her life just died!” Zoey knew she was probably getting _far_ too angry with her boss who had just told her casually that he wouldn’t be particularly slow to fire her ass. 

“I think her expecting you to rush around to see her during the workday is a bit much.”

“Don’t tell my mother how to live her life.”

“Zoey... please. This doesn’t need to be an argument. Just, please, do your work. This would be different if you were just a coder, you could work wherever, whenever. Working late would be a fine solution, or working some over the weekend. But as someone who’s in charge of people... you do need to be here occasionally.”

Zoey took a deep breath from between gritted teeth, trying not to get angrier, because she didn’t need to get fired for assaulting her boss, and that’s where this was headed. “Fine. I’ll work late today, and I’ll try and figure out something with my mom.”

Darryl nodded. “Thank you. That’s all, Zoey.”

Zoey stormed out, slamming the sliding glass door to his office with a resounding clink, and she speedwalked to her desk.

She made a few frustrated noises and beat her head into her keyboard, and then actually turned it on to get work done.

“You look like you’re having a lovely day,” someone said suddenly, tapping her shoulder.

Zoey jumped a mile. She’d been laser focused on her screen for the past thirty seconds, and apparently that was enough to get her into a zone.

She looked, and there was Simon, looking mildly worried and slightly amused, leaning on his forearms on her desk, smiling gently at her. She had rejected him resoundingly, but again, never hurt to look at the menu. As long as it wasn’t Leif.

“I’m in the anger stage of grief, for your information.”

“I can see that. And your mom?” 

“Whatever the stage is where she uncontrollably sobs because she tried to start boxing up his shit... and me being at this stage makes me think cynical thoughts about the irony of how _he’s_ in a box, and almost say them out loud to my very sad mother,” Zoey complained.

“Oh Jesus,” Simon said. “Other than that... how are you doing?” He drummed his fingers on the desk methodically.

“Bleh. Not great. I’m fucking furious all the time, I just got an ultimatum from Darryl that I can’t leave in the middle of the day to comfort my mom for four hours if I want my job, and I threw a shoe at a wall in my apartment and now there’s a picture of the Eiffel Tower that wasn’t there before!” Zoey said with sarcastic cheerfulness.

“Okay, yikes. Well... this isn’t really the greatest place to dissect your feelings right now... wanna go take a walk and get some Cheesequakes after work?”

“Oh... I would. But I need to work late to make it up to Darryl.” Zoey felt bad saying that, she didn’t want to work late any more than the next guy unless she was in a mood where drowning her sorrows in work seemed like a great idea, and she really did want to go on a walk with Simon and not stay here with Leif all night.

Simon was unfazed. “Cool. Don’t skip out on four hours of work tomorrow and we’ll go then?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” Zoey joked as Leif came back to his desk from god only knows where... probably the raw bar on the sixth floor.

“Leif, how’re you doing today?” Zoey asked from over Simon’s shoulder. The correct answer would be to tell her how he was doing with work, not about how he was personally.

But he went for the wrong one.

“I’m good, actually, how are you, Miss Clarke?” Leif said, in an actually uncannily cheerful voice. He’d been cheerful before, it wasn’t unheard of, but never really this cheerful. So where was the heartsong, universe?

“I’m fine... how’s work?” Zoey said flatly.

“Ohh... we’re getting there, I plan to push it this afternoon. Shouldn’t have to stay past quitting time today, myself.”

“Good... don’t put the pedal to the metal for my sake, I’m catching up at weird hours.”

“Why would I do that for you?” Leif deadpanned.

His mannerisms said that he absolutely _would_ do that for her, but it was a kinda funny joke (or a funny factual statement) so Zoey let out a loud laugh that wasn’t awkward until immediately after it ended. It was a weird fucking laugh, and not a particularly great one.

Yes, Zoey did overanalyse her laughter. This was a thing she did, especially when she was pissed off and her dad was in a cold mahogany box in the cold ground.

Everyone stared at her like she’d just burped up a chicken or some shit, which was kinda uncalled for, though.

“Okay, so, I have no life right now... as long as my mom’s okay, we can go after work tomorrow,” Zoey said slowly, turning back to Simon.

Simon nodded slowly. “Let’s go do our work now... that way I don’t get stuck staying late with you,” he said, standing up.

“It’s a lifestyle!” 

“The Lifestyles of the Zo and Famous.”

____________

Zoey worked hard that afternoon, but despite her best efforts, still ended up staying relatively late, and of course, with Leif again.

“Why’re you here again?” Zoey asked.

“Decided I would do some extra credit work... just for fun,” Leif said, gaze shifting over to her... and biting his lip slowly. 

“Extra credit? Like what? This isn’t high school.”

“I’m finishing this side of the user to image browser configuration. I know that you allocated that task to yourself... but something’s clearly going on in your life, and I don’t mind helping out a bit. Plus, I don’t think this should take me long if I do it in this weird way. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m... intrigued to know your weird way you think I won’t understand, but I’m not gonna... you sure you aren’t just doing that so you’re well positioned to get my job if I get fired?”

“What? Of course not.”

“I dunno... seems weird I get an ultimatum from my boss the same day you decide to pick up the slack for me.”

“Not everyone’s out to get you, Zoey,” Leif said, his voice containing a sharp edge to it. “Something’s going on in your life to make your mom have a daily crisis that requires you to leave for hours on end. I’m merely helping out, since if I don’t, the work is going to pile up on you, and then _you’re_ gonna have a daily crisis.” Despite his sharp tone, his expression was soft... sympathetic. Caring, almost.

That made Zoey feel a little bad.

But what was she supposed to feel? Leif was nice enough, but they had a long running rivalry, one that ran even further back than the fourth floor engineering manager promotion. Leif had only recently really started being nice to her, and he was probably still convinced that she had written that nasty peer review about him. And he was kinda an asshole in general.

“Sorry... I just... you’ve only really become amicable towards me recently,” Zoey said quietly.

Leif’s face hadn’t changed a bit, still soft and sympathetic. His tone changed now to match his expression. “I get that- that’s why I’m not pushing for you to open up to me, so... let me at least do this?”

“Fine. Thanks, Leif.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Maybe Max had told him? Maybe Max had told him that her dad had died, and he knew, but he didn’t want to seem nosy or weird. But he was acting weird enough right now, anyway. 

Max and Leif had oddly bonded recently, although Zoey didn’t know how much that had continued on now that Max no longer worked at SPRQ Point, but it wasn’t completely off the table. Still... it didn’t seem like he knew. So maybe it was sucking up? But he never did that, she’d be shocked if he even respected her enough to kiss ass.

Whatever. He was acting weird, but he was Leif, and he was stupidly skinny and tall and lanky, and people who are stupidly skinny, tall, and lanky, are generally weird. So it wasn’t completely weird.

She got her work done by nine, and was about to do a little bit more to get ahead for tomorrow, when her phone dinged with a text message.

**David: Mom’s having a tough time right now, can you go over and talk to her? I would but this damn kid is being a troublemaker. [9:03 PM]**

**Me: I was over there for four hours today, and I’m slipping at work because it’s becoming a daily occurrence. Is it selfish to ask if you’re sure you can’t? [9:04 PM]**

**David: I really would if I could, but I really can’t, Zoey. I’ll pay you in cute baby pictures? [9:05 PM]**

**Me: I expect at least ten. [9:05 PM]**

**David: Here’s one to start with. Thanks, Aunt Zozo. [9:06 PM]**

Attached to his text was a _supremely_ adorable picture of Zach. 

Zoey smiled at her screen, tapping the photo to enlarge it. His cute little baby face was all scrunched up, his eyes closed, and he was all swaddled up in a fuzzy blanket, a little bit of his fuzzy black hair showing.

“Oh my god, are you smiling? This is a stunning development, ladies and gentlemen- perhaps Zoey Clarke doesn’t have a heart of coal,” Leif said quietly.

“It’s a picture of my nephew... I at least have a little bit of a soul,” Zoey said, dutifully turning her phone around to show him.

He came over. “Oh my gosh... he’s adorable?” Leif sounded like he genuinely thought that he was cute... and who wouldn’t? Turns out, Leif Donnelly also had a little bit of a soul. “Congratulations.”

“Isn’t he something?” Zoey said quietly, smiling as she turned her phone back around to study the picture again. 

“If you ever decide to kidnap him because he’s so adorable... I’ll drive your getaway car.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zoey said, shutting her laptop and beginning to put away her work belongings.

“Leaving so soon?”

“My mom’s not doing so great... I have to go see her and make sure she doesn’t self combust... wow, Zoey! That’s not a bitchy thing to say at all!” Zoey was, clearly, supremely proud of herself, making that statement.

Leif winced. “Go help your mom... but if I may ask-“

“No, you really can’t. I’m good, and she will be... eventually.”

“Can’t your dad help her? Or are they divorced?”

It hit Zoey just then, that Leif really didn’t know much about her personal life. He didn’t even know that her dad had or had been sick... so damn. He really knew jack shit.

“I’m all she’s got... it’s complicated. I don’t really think you’re the best person to open up to about my personal life, though.”

“Eventually, we’ll get there.”

“What, are we prepping me for eventual emotional breakthroughs with my rival?”

“Why the hell not?”

Zoey put her last few things into her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. “Because... we don’t do that, Leif.”

He smiled softly... which was too fucking odd.

 _Hey universe, where the fuck is the song? I would really like one right about now,_ Zoey thought. One of the few times she actually wanted a song and the universe was, metaphorically, standing her up. Which was totally uncool, if you asked her.

Whatever. She bade Leif goodbye, took the elevator down to the street, and took the BART down to the closest station to her mom’s house, and walked the rest of the way.

She let herself in with her key, and found the house in completely disarray when she stepped in.

Zoey thought she’d seen it messy before. She thought that she’d seen the messiest the house could be, given that her mom and dad had usually kept it spotless, and her mom had continued it, especially when carrying Dad had become normal and tripping over objects would probably mean some horrible, horrible things.

“Mom?” Zoey called, shutting the door behind her, and tip toeing over a discarded copy of Anna Karenina.

“In the kitchen!” She called back, her voice obviously sounding frazzled.

Zoey hightailed it to the kitchen, finding her mother frantically searching through the spice drawer. “If you’re looking for the garlic salt, I took some home with me on accident, I thought I was taking your extra thing of salt because I was out of my own and I grabbed the wrong one.”

“Oh, no, I’m looking for the cloves.”

“Why?”

“To make an apple and cloves sachet,” her mother explained, as if that made any sense at all. Even if she was a florist... that made legitimately no sense.

“Okayyy... well... what’s with the mess? Is Maggie one of the names on the list for this hurricane season.”

“Oh, no, I just... i was looking for something.”

“What was it?”

“The cloves!” She said rather loudly, wringing her hands frantically. 

Zoey stepped over to her mom and grabbed her hands. “Okay, mom... calm down. We’ll find the cloves... or I’ll go to the store and buy cloves. Okay?”

“Why would we buy cloves if we already have cloves?”

“If you’ve already torn up the house looking for the cloves, and they’re this important to you, and you haven’t found them yet, then I think you’re worthy of some brand spanking new cloves from the supermarket. Sound good?”

“No... not good.”

“Mom... okay, what is an apple and clove sachet, anyway?”

Her mother wrung her hands again, now that Zoey had let go. “It was in Little House in the Prairie, it’s supposed to be relaxing and smell nice-“

“Okay, well if you want something relaxing and you’re okay with it not smelling great, smoke some weed?” Zoey half joked, opening up a drawer to look for the damn cloves, herself. If they’d make her happy... she might as well.

She got a frown in return for her joke. “It’s not funny.”

“Okay, I know it isn’t... oh! Cloves!” Zoey said triumphantly, producing a container of cloves.”

Her mother took them from her, and popped off the lid, smelling the... rather fragrant spice. “That doesn’t even smell that good.”

“Well, you committed, so you make your sachet, and I’ll pick up?” 

Her mother nodded. “Thank you, Zoey... even though I think I asked David to come?”

“David asked me to come for him, because he’s busy with the baby.”

“The little shit,” her mother joked with a weak smile.

Zoey clutched her imaginary pearls in mock surprise. “You actually have it in you to joke? I am shocked! Shocked, I tell you!”

She sighed. “I’ll get through this... this is just a bad patch.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” Zoey said quietly, getting up to go pick up the mess.

As she put things away and her mother shoved cloves into a poor little red delicious apple, Zoey found tears coming to her eyes, completely against her will, which was pretty rude.

It was selfish... but it hurt to be taking care of her frazzled mother, who was acting almost out of character, which was undeniably freaky. 

Maybe her mom would get through this... but Zoey had barely given _herself_ time to grieve.

How was _she_ going to get through this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you’ve never read anything of mine before just know that im shoving my tumblr down ur throat... it’s team-zoey-has-two-hands. comments give me serotonin and also dopamine hopefully. maybe even some cbd 👀

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands, but right now she only has one hand and it belongs to leif lof loaf


End file.
